Christmas Crackers
by MadBat27
Summary: Edward Nygma tries to keep himself entertained over Christmas by asking Harvey Dent riddles. The former DA is less than thrilled about it. Xmas fic 16/25.
1. Chapter 1

The scratching echoes slightly in the silence. The dimly lit hallways stretch on for miles without a sight or sound. Nothing but grey walls and grey doors, and outside a grey city under a grey sky. Not a creature stirring.

Edward sighed. The little stone left light grey marks on the wall and dirty grey punctures in his fingers from the sharp edges. How he longed for a spot of green. Red would do. Either would be festive, to suit the season. He longed for his suit, too.

Stepping away, he left the scrawled question marks that climbed and circled his cell, and flounced against the bars. Across the hallway, Harvey snarled at the chess pieces laid out before him. It wasn't that they aggravated him, he just couldn't help it. Half of his face was fixed in a permanently grotesque scowl, his acid-burned flesh puckered and raw, like his nerves.

On this occasion, however, he was genuinely glowering. Casting an eye over the board, Eddie soon deduced the cause. Two rows of black pieces faced two rows of symmetrical white, except for a single square. The white queen was missing.

Eddie wondered idly if he could take the erstwhile attorney's mind off the missing piece – but deep down, what he really wanted was to get on that last raw nerve. He couldn't help himself. And Eddie knew just how to make the law man loopy.

"You'll know that I am coming from the jingle of my bell. But exactly who I am is not an easy thing to tell. My job may leave me frozen, but I'm a jolly man. I have a vehicle full of treats; can you tell me who I am?"

"You're a raving lunatic with a penchant for pointless rhymes. Now shut up and go to sleep!"

"Now, now, Harvey. They're not pointless rhymes. They're riddles. You're just sour because you don't know the answers."

"The answers are trivial. I have better things to concern myself with."

"Riiight. Like, how to color your hair for the big day? I suggest two-tone. Red and green for a festive touch." Riddler pressed close against the bars. "Come on, Harv, you know you want to try. How can you resist the duality? Questions vs. Answers. Brains vs. Beauty."

"Point. Less." Two-Face growled.

"Oh? Do tell," Riddler said with a wide flourish of the arm. "Present your argument to the court."

"They do nothing to get at the truth. That makes them pointless."

"Case closed, councillor," Nigma mocked. "Except, when you're in court, don't you already know the answers? Just like I do."

Harvey just growled – which didn't indicate much of any note. The former DA, glanced around his cell, looking for the missing piece. He wouldn't bother to move; that was beneath him. Dirty work was a job for henchmen. But they were all in Blackgate.

"You're just trying to show how clever you are," Eddie continued provocatively. "Juries find in your favour if your questions, and the answers you coached the witnesses to give, are smart enough. So, half-wit, the question is: are you smart enough?"

"If you're so smart, answer this: where's the white queen?"

Eddie smiled. "When found, I will no longer be; when left, I am not. Alone and forgotten… what am I?"

"Lost?" Harvey rasped, rolling his eyes. That was no help to him at all.

"Very good, Harv," Eddie said. "How's about another?"

With a howl of frustration, Harvey overturned the bedside table, throwing the board to the floor and scattering the pieces. Eddie smiled. He knew where the white queen was; he just wasn't ready to tell. Not unless he got something out of it.

"Ever think that maybe that's how you lose your marbles?" Eddie asked. "I mean chess pieces, of course. Ready for another riddle?"

"Listen, you two-bit freak," Harvey roared.

"I'm white as a dove, without wings I fly; a weapon in a fight in which no-one will die. What am I?"

Grabbing the bars, Harvey thrust his face toward Nygma. His left eye bulged more than usual. There was venom in his voice, and for the first time, Riddler was thankful for the bars. After all, he was a thinker, not a fighter. But ol' Harvey, here? He was both.

"If I ever get my hands on you, I'll rip you in half, and put your head where the sun won't shine."

"Now, now, Harv. Settle down. Or you won't get your two lumps of coal."

Harvey pushed off the bars with an infuriated cry. Nygma tittered, enjoying the show. It was always a blast to press Two-face's buttons. As long as he couldn't retaliate, of course. After all, the man was a former DA. He prosecuted guys like Riddler. Considering the way bent cops were treated in prisons, Dent was getting off lightly.

"In cold I come, of clothes I have none, until a stranger lends me their own. On a day that is warm, I take a new form, and slip away to a new home."

Harvey stomped away from the bars, back towards his cot. Riddler expected him to lay down, and bury his head under the pillows as he had so many times before. But this time, he crouched down, fishing with one hand under the steel frame.

Riddler turned away, leaning on the bars with his back to Harvey's cell. He was curious, naturally, but he wouldn't ask. There was nothing worse than having to admit ignorance. Questions were his game, but only when he already knew the answers. Instead, he filled the time with another riddle, just to fray that last nerve.

"I have been murdered, yet I am alive. There's wealth at my feet, but none of it mine. What am I?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Riddler could see what Two-face had retrieved. It still made no sense to him. If he wasn't quite mistaken, Two-face was holding a simple Christmas cracker. But why, and particularly why now, was a complete mystery. He couldn't ask, but maybe he could taunt the answer out of him.

"Aww, Harv, you're going to pull a cracker with me. That's keeping the Christmas spirit alive!"

"I wouldn't pull this. It's got a nasty bang." Harvey approached the door of his cell and pulled out a match. "Christmas in Arkham really isn't so bad. I was going to wait for warmer weather to break out of this dump, but you make this place unbearable."

He lit the cracker on one end, wedged it between the bars by the lock, and moved back to the rear of his cell. Riddler did the same as a precaution. Moments later, the cracker exploded and the cell door fell from its hinges and clattered on the floor.

Harvey strolled from his cell, another cracker in his hands. On the good side of his face, his lips broke into a smile.

"Now I have a riddle for _you_ Nygma," he said mockingly. "When can't a hardened criminal stand a shooting?"

"When he's shot himself in the foot."


	2. Riddle Answers

Q. You'll know that I am coming from the jingle of my bell. But exactly who I am is not an easy thing to tell. My job may leave me frozen, but I'm a jolly man. I have a vehicle full of treats; can you tell me who I am? A. The Ice-Cream Man. Q. I'm white as a dove, without wings I fly; a weapon in a fight in which no-one will die. What am I? A. Snowball. Q. In cold I come, of clothes I have none, until a stranger lends me their own. On a day that is warm, I take a new form, and slip away to a new home. What am I? A. Snowman. Q. I have been murdered, yet I am alive. There's wealth at my feet, but none of it mine. What am I? A. Christmas Tree. 


End file.
